


What the Heart Wants

by Otakumori



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Local Dad is a Plot Device, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, he just looked like a yuri to me idk, hero will be called yuri in this, men getting FRISKY and also talking about their feelings, the crew will make appearances here and there, theres no sex scenes right off the bat but itll get there i promise, this started out as just straight up porn in my head but it turned Much Worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otakumori/pseuds/Otakumori
Summary: [This work contains spoilers for basically the entire game. You've been warned.]The mighty general and flamboyant jester reunited. However, this time, something was different between them.Hendrik could not rationalize the feelings he harboured. Faced with an unexplainable, sudden attraction to his fellow brother-in-arms and pained by impure thoughts, he needed to make a choice.But his struggles did not go by unnoticed.





	1. The Common Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much my first shot at a fanfiction so I'm still tryna figure stuff out lel. Bls be patient.
> 
> Hendrik x Sylvando started out as some kind of crackship for me but then I caught myself thinking more and more about it and went "o-oh no this is actually pretty cute"
> 
> This whole thing is probably gonna be really embarrassing later on but what can I say, I'm garbage.
> 
> Have fun.

With Calasmos' crushing defeat by the hands of the fearless Luminary Yuri and his comrades, peace had been restored to the land of Erdrea once and for all.

It was a long and tiring fight, but the group of heroes emerged victorious regardless. Their courageous actions were celebrated in the castle of Heliodor with a grand banquet and a most wonderful ball that carried on till the depths of night, followed by a well-deserved time to finally rest their weary bones. Each member of the group had a different place to return to; a different place to be, so it was inevitable for them to part ways. It was heartbreaking for them to split up after having such a great adventure together, however, they knew that deep down, they would always be connected no matter how long the distance may be or become.

Thus, when the day came, they each departed; off to their own destiny, fondly remembering both the good and the rough times they had together. Tenacious battles, pleasant chit-chat besides the campfire underneath a gleaming blanket of stars. No matter how many years would pass, none of these moments they would ever forget.

It pained Sylvando to say goodbye to his friends. He knew that this day would come, but he would still miss each of them dearly. Yuri, Serena, Veronica, Erik, Rab, Jade,

_...Hendrik._

But be that as it may! The unease on the faces of the people of Erdrea had been lifted, and finally, smiles began to spread. The annihilation of the Dark One and his star weakened the wild monsters previously strengthened by the vicious fiend and the world had become a much safer place to traverse, giving the people hope once again. Nothing could have made him happier.

In fact, he deemed now the perfect time to commission the construction of the grand theatre he had always dreamed of!

He had accumulated a lot of wealth over the years, not even counting his father's resources, so it would have been a waste to not use it to fulfil his lifelong dream. After a lot of hard thinking, he figured that the very best place to build said theatre was the place that had pretty much become the capital of the world at this point: Heliodor itself.

Oh, he couldn't wait for all of the smiles he would see; the children that would watch his performances with sparkles in their eyes and inspiration in their hearts, the bad days had by his audience vanishing into thin air.

For now though, he planned to pay his dear father a visit first; he had so much to tell him.

After making his farewells, he set off to Puerto Valor first thing in the morning. He was so used to travelling with his dear friends that he felt rather lonely making his way to the Costa Valor on his beloved Salty Stallion, even with Dave to keep him company. Sometimes he caught Sylvando gazing out onto the deep blue sea, the calm movement of its waves seemingly hypnotizing him. Not one cloud crept across the horizon, the sunrays gently caressing the performer's face. Slightly leaning over the ship's railing, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh ocean air. It was only a matter of minutes now.

As predicted, he could spot the sea gates of Puerto Valor in the distance. For so long he dreaded seeing this place again, but after Yuri and Hendrik helped him overcome his fears and face his father again after almost two decades of absence, the lovely scenery eventually managed to ignite a cozy feeling of nostalgia in his heart once more.

 

* * *

 

"Papi is sick?!"

Sylvando had just arrived in his hometown and already he was in for bad news. Don Rodrigo had just recovered from a previous injury he had suffered from and straightly resumed the training of his recruits, but now he apparently caught a very bad case of the flu. Prideful and thickheaded as he was, he tried to pursue his usual daily activities regardless of the pain, only to either eventually collapse or be stopped and brought right back to bed by his servants.

When taking but a step into his father's impressive villa near the beautiful Puerto Valorian beach, he was immediately met by his butler Servantes in the main hall, who was beyond glad that the young master was safe and sound and educated him on Don Rodrigo's current condition.

"Sí, I am afraid he is not doing too well at the moment. However, it is nothing serious, so he is sure to recover soon," Servantes reassured him, readjusting his glasses. Sylvando lightened up, his worried frown completely drained from his face.

"Ahhh, I see. Phew, and I was getting worried over here. Silly me!"

"But besides that..." Servantes said with misty eyes, trying to hold back tears, "you have truly done it, Señorito Norberto. You and your amigos have saved the world. Together you were able to truly achieve a magnificent feat. Don Rodrigo will be so proud of you when he sees you."

Servantes' comment managed to make Sylvando blush a bit, though it was really Yuri who deserved most of the praise. He was the one who was the Luminary here, after all. Sylvando was just a merry jester that happened to have been taken along for the ride.

"Aww, thank you, Servantes, that is so sweet of you to say. Though I didn't do that much, really... Ah, say, how does Papi feel right now? Can I go see him right away?" Sylvando asked eagerly, keen on verifying his father's health by himself and maybe making him feel a bit better. He must've felt quite grumpy being bed-ridden all day, and what else to cheer him up than a visit by his dear, beloved son.

The steward wiped the few tears that managed to escape his eyes away with his handkerchief and responded.

"Por supuesto. In fact, he has just awoken. If you would come with me."

Servantes accompanied Sylvando to Don Rodrigo's bedroom, following his young master's step elegantly. Truly it felt like no time had passed at all, the artist being promptly reminded of his childhood when analyzing the familiar scenery. Everything was still where he remembered it, from the noble-looking furniture to the tiny hole in the wall behind the cupboard only he seemed to know about. 

It felt really good to be back home and just being able to relax for a bit.

Reaching the first floor, the two threw a quick glance at Gonzalez, who nodded with a smile, and they entered the bedroom. Don Rodrigo was sitting upright in his bed, carefully trying to eat a bowl of chicken soup with a somewhat shaky hand and a pale complexion.

His back was being supported by a few pillows as to help him stay in his current position while still providing a certain level of comfort, but he was still being thoroughly monitored by his maid.

Surely it was very shameful for a skilled knight like him to be treated like a fragile flower like this, however, he somewhat brought this treatment onto himself, seeing how many times he tried to convince everyone around him that he is feeling fine only to lose footing mere seconds later. Sylvando wanted to let out a light giggle, but he knew how much his father hated being out of commission, especially after just having let another inconvenience behind him, so instead he put on his loveliest of smiles and approached him.

 _"Papiiiiiiii,"_   he let out in a sing-song voice, skipping along, _"guess who's hooooome~~!"_

Don Rodrigo's head jerked upwards, which he instantly regretted for it terribly made his head spin.

He would've recognized this voice anywhere.

Determined to not show any weakness, he tried to straighten his back to look a bit more dignified and spoke with a raspy voice: 

"Norberto! Ayayay, you truly do make a ruckus wherever you go! Quiet down a bit, will you?"

Sylvando grinned. He knew he was happy to see him. His maid seemed to be very glad to see him as well, letting out a quiet gasp and folding her hands together with a warm expression on her face. She abandoned her pose when her master started coughing and she gently pat his back.

"Oh Papi, you really have the worst of luck, don't you? You just got better from that wound you got, and here you are again with a nasty virus."

Sylvando tried to sound as empathetic as he could. He genuinely was, but he knew that his father would probably interpret his words as mockery.

And so he did.

"Arrogant boy! Don't think just because you helped destroy the dark star means that you get to be this cocky with me," Don Rodrigo barked, pointing at his son with a fierce glare. Only he could acknowledge his baby boy's amazing achievements and still uphold his tough military man aesthetic. Sylvando wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Oh, calm down, Papi. I got really worried when I found out you got sick while I was away, you know! Sheesh, don't scare me like that again."

"¡Tonterías! I'm fi--"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he got stuck in another coughing fit, instinctively pounding on his ribcage with his balled fist, making the maid reprimand him in a worried tone.

"Try to refrain from yelling like that, por favor. I know you hate being ill, but still, we are all just worried about you. You must rest your voice now."

Don Rodrigo groaned; annoyed, but knowing that she was right.

The caring maid handed her master a glass of water which he reluctantly emptied in one go. Meanwhile, Sylvando grabbed a small stool from the corner of the room for him to sit at his sick father's bedside.

Servantes looked fondly upon the sight of father and son sitting side by side, making him remember the good old days. Silence filled the room, nothing but the Don's ragged breathing being heard. The pair simply exchanged a few glances between short pauses of broken eye contact, seemingly not needing a lot of words to appreciate each other's presence. 

After about a minute of nothingness, the father was the first to speak.

"So, Norberto... You fulfilled your oath. When the dark star in the sky vanished, I knew it was you," he uttered, a hint of happiness in his voice.

Sylvando smiled to himself. His father wasn't directly looking him in the eye when praising him, yet it was obvious that he was very, very proud of his son. The performer was just about to open his mouth when Don Rodrigo swiftly cut him off.

"-- ** _HOWEVER_** , you still have another vow to answer for, my boy. Don't think your old man has forgotten."

The hard-boiled instructor crossed his arms in a stern manner.

"You yet have to make all people in the world smile, sí? I dearly hope you are persistently working on making that a reality instead of just a false pretence."

Sylvando playfully rolled his eyes, knowing something like that was coming.

His father was challenging his determination to his cause, and by Yggdrasil, he was ready to defend it! Bringing smiles was a _serious business._

"Oh, Papi... I've got a _big_ project in the works. A fabulous, brand-new theatre in the busiest district of Heliodor, soon providing people of all ages with a steady supply of joy. It will take a while until it's built, but I assure you that you'll love it when you see it!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, sitting legs-crossed with his head supported by the palm of his hand.

Don Rodrigo smirked and let out a hearty chuckle.

"¡Je je je je! Well then, I'll be looking forward to examining the fruits of your hard work. Do not let me down, Norberto, you hear?"

"I'm not planning on it," responded Sylvando confidently. Although, a question came to his mind.

"By the way, Papi... If you need to stay in bed again, does that mean the recruit training gets postponed?" he asked, genuinely curious. The young men must've been getting quite antsy, having their schedule dropped for a week or two for the second time in a row now. Their teacher falling genuinely ill was very rare as well; Sylvando couldn't recall this occurring too many times when he was small.

"No, of course not! Have you ever taken a look at them?! Completely out of shape like this, they will never become fine knights!" Don Rodrigo started explaining, pausing for a second to gather his thoughts when hit with yet another fit of dizziness. "So, I requested Hendrik to care of them while I am... incapacitated."

Sylvando uncrossed his legs and stared at him in disbelief. He had to admit that he was kind of... disappointed, weirdly enough.

"Aw, I kind of wish you would have asked me first. I'm sure I would have done a pretty good job keeping these little darlings in shape... I can be very fierce when I want to, you know," he said while trying his best to speak in a rough, much more masculine tone near the end to emphasize his point. That proved to be a bit easier said than done, though, almost making him emit gleeful laughter at the silliness of it all which he desperately tried to suppress that moment.

Don Rodrigo raised an eyebrow, admittedly very pleasantly surprised that his son would've willingly accepted such a massive responsibility, still he carefully handed the half-empty soup bowl on his lap over to his maid and answered to his boy's displeasure.

"Oh, so now you want to follow in your father's footsteps, eh?! Caramba, if I would have known that, I just would have waited a few more years!--"

The now pouting jester was just about to get up from his stool and retaliate when Rodrigo expanded on his previous statement.

" _\--But anywho!_ You don't have any time to waste on substituting for your sick father, now do you? You have smiles to spread, and soon, an entire establishment to tend to! Know your priorities!" he growled, as well as he could, anyway. His throat still ached like he had eaten a Gallopolitan cactus raw. Also, he didn't want to upset his poor maid again.

The knight in smiling armour was touched by his father's display of affection to him, even if he was a little rough around the edges. While they did tease one another extensively due to their clashing personalities and lifestyle, they knew that, deep down, the other loved them with all their heart... Or so Sylvando had discovered recently with the help of his wonderful friends.

Nevertheless, he did protest.

"But I would love helping out around here, at least for a little bit! When it comes to you, Papi, I got all the time in the world!" Sylvando grinned, tilting his head. "I could just help Hendrik a bit when he comes here. I mean, he'd probably be the better military instructor overall, but surely he still could need a hand, no?"

Don Rodrigo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. He knew that if his son fixated on a certain idea, nothing could be done to change his mind. In a certain way, he very much reminded the veteran knight of his late wife. A most beautiful woman with an iron will. Oh, how much he missed her. Certainly, somewhere in the loving embrace of mother Yggdrasil, she looked down upon him very fondly.

"Do whatever you want, boy-- But don't you _dare_ try meddling with my training! With Hendrik, I can rest assured that he will follow my methods unfailingly, but with you, I just can't help but be sceptical!", he mumbled, knowing just how his son was, who didn't fail to quickly respond, a mischievous grin spread wide across his face.

"Oh, don't you worry about that! Hm... Those uniforms, though, are horribly out of season..."

As he sprinted out of the room in a playful manner, all he could hear in the further growing distance was his agitated father's hoarse yelling. Who knew he would get so immensely upset over an innocent little joke?

Well, Sylvando knew.


	2. Too Close for Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE IS LONG I'm sorry I completely got carried away.  
> I just hope it was at the right parts haha

Despite the world appearing truly harmonious, Hendrik hadn't let his guard down for a single second ever since defeating the Dark One alongside the Luminary. His duty as a warrior of Heliodor remained to protect his beloved Kingdom, and thus he always needed to be prepared for the very worst, even in times of prosperity.

In fact, Princess Jade, whose coming of age he regrettably had missed in its entirety, was soon to be crowned as the new queen, and Hendrik had sworn to redeem his foolish actions of the past by protecting the young maiden at all costs. King Carnelian himself, in the meanwhile, had made it _his_ mission to correct the injustices done to his people by him under the control of Mordegon, especially the lower class forced to live in the Downtown of Heliodor.

For father and daughter both, he would be their untiring guardian. No villainous scoundrel would ever lay their dirty hands on the royal family for as long as he lived.

Not ever again.

Strutting down the all so familiar halls of Heliodor Castle, grandiose pillars of white and imposing red banners of the insignia of the two-headed eagle adorning the walls, Hendrik had himself readied for his usual patrol around the general area. Things did start to slowly quiet down after the affair of the king's possession and the defeat of Calasmos went by, as insane as these scenarios sounded in any sane man's head. Despite the ruler of the kingdom suffering from a massive memory gap; not able to remember the past _16 years,_ all the people of Heliodor could do was try to return to their normal lives.

Hendrik had done just that.

The same armour, the same mount, the same legions of soldiers willing to ride alongside him for the glory of their kingdom.

But a certain someone was still missing.

Someone, even now, very dear to him.

The thought of the man he formerly called his best friend made him stop in his tracks. He knew there was no point in trying to make sense of Jasper's abhorrent alliance with evil and disgusting actions over the years, most of which he managed to hide from him. He still could not believe it, wishing everything merely was just a bad dream and when making his way through the corridors, there he would be, suddenly walking beside him, reviewing strategic notes he had written the night prior one last time before battle while sipping on a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

But not this time. Jasper had passed, murdered by his own master.

Even if Hendrik wanted to find out his reasoning on siding with Mordegon, investigating such was simply not possible anymore.

He needed to move on, he _had_ to move on.

Exiting the castle through the towering main gates, Hendrik made his way to the stalls where his horse Obsidian would be waiting. He caught a glance of the marvellous castle town beneath -- the market buzzing with life and erratic merchants from all over the world coming to trade, children's innocent laughter frolicking near the town centre being heard, the sound of travelling musicians playing their lighthearted tunes filling the air.

Things had gone back to their usual business for everyone. Life resumed as usual.

_So why was he not able to let go?_

"Sir Hendrik! A letter has come for you!"

Snapped out of his daydream, Hendrik shook his head and turned around to notice a fellow soldier standing right behind him, holding out a with red swirls decorated, white envelope. He was a bit embarrassed to be caught staring off into nothing like this, but instead of lingering on it, he straightened his back and spoke:

"Ah, you have my thanks. You are dismissed."

Hendrik took the letter and gave a firm nod to the soldier, who returned to his post at once.

Flipping the envelope promptly revealed its sender: Don Rodrigo.

 _'Don Rodrigo? What could this possibly be about?'_   he wondered, not often receiving mail from his former instructor.

He carefully opened the letter, trying to not completely tear it apart, and scanned its interior message. It took him by surprise that his mentor had apparently gotten ill and needed a replacement to train his rookie recruits for a short amount of time.

Hendrik was deeply honoured by this; he had a huge amount of respect towards the man that taught him everything about combat that he knew, so doing him a small favour like this was the least he could do to repay him.

However, he was still needed in his kingdom, and Don Rodrigo knew this also. While asking him to take over the training regimen, he also understood if the duty-bound Hendrik were not to follow his request -- after all, a knight's kingdom was his master. Rodrigo simply considered him the best possible instructor to follow his own methods, and he was completely right in that aspect. Hendrik recalled his years under Puerto Valor's patriarch's wing as very rough and demanding, but they also made them the knight he was today.

The muscular hero pondered whether or not to go for quite a while, when he was suddenly approached by Jade making her way to Heliodor Castle from the town carrying a large cotton bag. Steadily climbing the several rows of stairs that separated the lower and the upper-class district, she spotted Hendrik from afar and waved at him with a smile. He noticed the crown princess also and greeted her with a polite bow.

"A wonderful day, Your Highness. May I assist you in transporting your purchases?"

"No need for that, Hendrik; it's not as heavy as it looks. But still, thank you," Jade replied, lifting the bag with just her pinky finger. She also observed her bulky bodyguard holding a fancy-looking letter in his right hand.

"Did you get mail? Something important?"

"I have been called to Puerto Valor as a substitute teacher, seeing how my old mentor, Don Rodrigo, has been afflicted with... the flu."

Hendrik had to pause for just a second, realizing how silly he must have made this situation sound, even though it was no laughing matter. Jade couldn't help but fail to contain a joyful snicker at his failed attempt to stay completely serious when wording things like that.

Nevertheless, Jade could imagine that Hendrik felt quite conflicted when being summoned out of the blue like this. He had always been extremely loyal to his kingdom, and after the series of incidents involving Mordegon that spanned over more than one and a half decade, he naturally would have felt hesitant to leave the land for what could all in all be considered of low importance.

She let out a sympathetic sigh, which made Hendrik tilt his head in confusion a bit, and lightly pat his broad shoulder.

"Don't rack your brains over it. You got royal permission to go."

Jade gave him an understanding smile. Hendrik could not thank Her Highness enough for her benevolence, but he sure could still try.

"You have my gratitude. I will be sure to return shortly as soon as the deed is done," he pledged with his clenched fist to his chest. He did not allow himself to miss Princess Jade's coronation for a favour.

And so he bade farewell to the heir of the Heliodorian throne, who wished him a safe journey in return, departing to the opulent coastal town of Puerto Valor on his trusty steed.

Leaving any sombre thoughts behind for now to fulfil his temporary mission.

 

* * *

 

After what only felt like a short afternoon ride to him, even if it almost took him half a day, the stern knight arrived at his destination, dressed in a more casual attire of orange and blue; seeing technically he was not on duty. The mere sight of the township's ivory architecture and the beautiful sandy beach brought back so many fond memories. He would have adored indulging in his nostalgia for at least a little while, except that he still had things to do. The sightseeing would have to wait.

On his way to Don Rodrigo's manor in a steady trot, it didn't take long for him to be recognized by the public, welcoming the known hero of Heliodor with plenty of delighted cheers. To be completely honest, Hendrik often did not know how to properly respond to people overwhelming him with glory like this, aside from trying to appear as dignified as humanly possible. Lord Robert had once told him that at times in which you didn't know how exactly to respond to the masses, a wide, reassuring smile was all you needed -- so Hendrik chose to heed the advice of the former king and tried to replicate just that.

He just hoped that it didn't look all too fake.

Setting foot on his mentor's property as the evening sun was about to calmly merge with the vast horizon, Hendrik halted Obsidian adjacent to its training grounds and tied his reins to a wooden post. In the distance he could spot the recruits independently exercising at the shore, jogging laps along the splashing waters as a general workout. Admirable, seeing the young knights-to-be taking initiative even without professional guidance.

He lifted his gaze off the inspiring youth, approached the villa's entrance and gave it a firm knock. Shortly after, a voice could be heard coming from the inside, but he didn't expect it to be one he would recognize so well.

"I will take this one, darling! You go get Papi that extra pillow!"

_Oh._

The doors swung open in a theatrical manner and the knight was met by his eccentric old acquaintance Sylvando, seemingly as carefree as ever. He was somewhat surprised to see him here -- strange, considering that this was his rightful home.

Not like he had any reason to complain, of course.

Right?

Sylvando's eyes met Hendrik's and lightened up with glee.

 _"Hendriiiik!_ It's been... not too long, actually!"

The jester widely spread open his arms in a way that looked like he intended to give Hendrik a warm, friendly embrace as a welcome, but he just couldn't figure out if he truly would have been comfortable with it or not. With his dear Yuri he knew for sure that he didn't mind getting up close and personal, but Hendrik's personal space he had yet to verify. So instead, he ended up trying to cover up his awkward move by moving his hands down to his hips in one swift motion. Smooth.

"It is... _good_ to see you, Sylvando. I assume you have been taking care of your sickly father?" Hendrik inquired.

Sylvando shifted his stance in the doorway, assuming a campy pose, right hand gently resting on his chest.

Clearly, he was very satisfied with himself.

"Why, of course I have! No good son would just stand by doing nothing when his dear papi isn't feeling well," he rambled on passionately, "I've been staying by his side all day, blew his hot food cold, made some small talk so he wouldn't get bored... Poor Papi, having to stay in bed while his boys are working so hard all on their own."

Both turned their head towards the unit of freshmen still training by the waterfront, who seemed to be about to stroll back to the manor, visibly exhausted and drenched with sweat.

Hendrik once again faced the playful performer with a determined expression.

"Well, they will stay without supervision no longer. Surely Don Rodrigo has informed you that I would come to assume the role of a temporary adviser."

" _Hmm,_ I heard."

Sylvando leaned forward and stretched out his arms behind his back, certainly planning something, but Hendrik couldn't conclude what exactly. He squinted; highly suspicious of the trickster's antics. His mischievous nature was not to be underestimated, this he learned the hard way.

This immediately caught Sylvando's attention, who started chuckling innocently and tried to clear up this terrible misunderstanding that apparently just occurred.

"Ohohoho, honey, I don't know what you were thinking," he told, well-intentioned, "but all I had in mind was giving you a helping hand! After all, don't two knights teach **better** than one?"

Hendrik had to admit he was not so wrong about that. He did greatly respect Sylvando's skill in swordsmanship and dedication to upholding the noble code of the knight, it was just...

The general's train of thought completely derailed for now the second time today. He couldn't find the right words to explain what exactly irritated him this much about Sylvando. Was it the fact that he abandoned following in his father's footsteps to run off to become a laughing stock? He could have become so much more for both himself and all of Erdrea if only he had not given in to his teenage rebellion. A gifted boy like him was destined for greatness, and yet...

No, that was not it.

He would have loved for it to have such a simple explanation, but there seemed to be something else to it.

Something.

" _Helloooooooo?_ Anyone still in there?"

Snapping Hendrik out of his wild theorizations was Sylvando, on his tip-toes, eccentrically waving his hand back and forth in front of his face, absolutely puzzled about what he might have been thinking that made him space out this much. Hendrik blinked twice and shook his head, experiencing what he could only describe as a case of deja vu.

"A-Ah, excuse me. I seem to have gotten lost in thought."

He placed his fist over his mouth and let out an awkward cough, face tinted with a dash of red. Sylvando was not fooled by the excuse given, however, and did not let go of the subject.

"About what, exactly? Oh... Don't tell me you were thinking about m-"

"S-Sir Hendrik! It's really you!"

Thank Yggdrasil.

In the meantime, the recruits had climbed their way up to Don Rodrigo's estate from the beach, mouths agape at the sight of the legendary Sir Hendrik blessing them with his unyielding presence. Neither wanting to possibly make a fool out of the hero in front of his admirers nor cause a fuzz, Sylvando piped down and decided not to pry any further after all. There was a time and place for this kinda stuff, and just now it poofed straight out of existence.

Hendrik, who had completely lost his composure through the previous exchange, promptly fixed his posture to a bit more courtly one when met by the awestruck lot. Allowing himself to show weakness in front of someone he had fought alongside with against evil was one thing, but doing the aforementioned in the company of inexperienced soldiers who needed to respect him and his authority was another. He gave a proper Heliodorian salute, which was hastily returned to him, and declared in a strict tone:

"From this day onward until Don Rodrigo's condition betters itself, I shall be the one to train you. Lessons will resume as normal tomorrow morning at sunrise. I expect all of you to give your all."

"Yes, Sir!!" the eager crowd affirmed with passion-filled voices. Truly, being taken under the wing of Sir Hendrik, even if it was only for a short while, was the greatest honour that could ever be bestowed upon young knights-to-be such as them.

Sylvando had been following the speech from the sidelines, internally smirking to himself about how quickly Hendrik went from flustered to disciplinary in what seemed like a fraction of a millisecond. Some things really did never change, it seems. Though he really did wonder what he had been keeping from him...

_'Oh, it's probably nothing. I'm overthinking this.'_

Nevertheless -- a wonderful idea came to his mind that moment.

"Say, how about a little sparring match, darling? It certainly wouldn't hurt for these precious little things to see an authentic demonstration of how a real knight fights, wouldn't you say?" he requested out loud for all the rookies to hear. This marvellous suggestion made them tremble with excitement at the thought of watching their role model up close performing in simulated combat.

At the sight of their boundless anticipation, Hendrik simply did not have the heart to decline. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he caught Sylvando throwing him a playful wink with a sly grin on his face.

He definitely planned this.

Hendrik let out a defeated sigh, quiet enough so nobody around would hear it, and was the first to make his way over to the training grounds, approving the proposition. The piqued recruits followed suit and gathered around one side of the circular structure, while the two opponents retrieved wooden training swords from the stockpile. Both knights were perfectly confident of their abilities, but at any rate, using harmless weapons proved to be a smarter proceeding, avoiding any possible chance of injury.

Confronted, Sylvando and Hendrik's eyes locked on to one another and shared an unrelenting glare. The men each assumed their individual battle stance -- Sylvando gracefully arching his back with a raised chin and shifting his weight slightly to the side, and Hendrik in an upright posture lowering his shoulders while maintaining an extremely tight grip on his blade. Neither intended to make this confrontation easy for the other; their pride alone would plainly not allow it.

Finally, a single exclamation broke the tense silence.

**_"En garde!"_ **

Lunging from their starting positions, the two heroes clashed in a wild flurry of organized sword strokes, nigh imperceptible to the untrained eye. Not even a single hit was let through -- the men seemingly evading incoming sword strokes with the lightest of ease, as expected of such experienced knights.

While Hendrik subconsciously relied more on his pure physical strength to win the feud; trying to forcefully breach his opponent's guard with powerful, dominant strikes, Sylvando, on the other hand, provided plenty of slick movements, patiently waiting for an opportunity to strike whilst attempting to parry his attacks. Rapid sidesteps, voracious advances invading in on the opponent, the sweet taste of triumph tingling their senses.

Heavy breathing echoed in the courtyard -- not only of the participants of this dance of war but also the wide-eyed onlookers following the spectacle. Even when not wielding a greatsword, Hendrik remained an unstoppable force not to be reckoned with. If not for Sylvando's careful approach to handling the bulky wall of a man, he surely would have been overpowered not even seconds into the fight. When compared to his brawny sparring partner, even though also having quite the athletic stature, he seemed almost fragile in comparison.

On the other hand, looks were not everything.

They continued to exchange strikes until their exhausted panting had completely overshadowed the clunky sounds of colliding wood, yet still, no winner was in sight. The setting sun painting the two in vibrant shades of orange, they traded swing after swing, blow after blow; neither giving in to the other. Even Sylvando knitted his brows, sharply inhaling any amount of air he could get a hold of between assaults, keeping a very close eye on Hendrik's movements in order to spot an opening in his defense, claiming victory.

_'Just like back then, hm.'_

In fact, that moment had come.

Hendrik raised his muscular arms high in the air for what seemed like a fraction of a second, ready to place a blow hopefully severe enough to ensure subjugation. Sylvando could have taken the chance, near invisible to any other, bringing the match to an end that could not have been more satisfying--

But alas, with a deep gulp from the audience, Hendrik managed to inflict a critical hit that was blocked by Sylvando's weapon at the very last instant, sending it to fly off in an arc.

Overwhelmed by the sheer force, the minstrel lost his footing, waving his arms around erratically trying to regain balance as gravity showed no mercy, swiftly pulling him down to the solid, cold ground.

Except that the latter part did not happen as expected; seeing Hendrik had relieved himself of his own sword and caught him by his waist shortly before the impact, effectively pulling him back up while he hunched over him.

Everything would have been so simple. All he had to do now was help him back up.

Yet, somehow, time seemed to have stopped.

That moment, Hendrik's face was just a few centimetres apart from that of Sylvando, tips of their noses inches from touching. Being this physically close to his fellow knight, it started to make Hendrik notice some of the more... subtle details about him.

Tiny drops of sweat have begun trickling down his chin, shimmering like stars in the night sky when illuminated by the setting sun. He was still panting extensively from the match, and Hendrik felt every breath he took; every time his chest raised and lowered, as he himself wheezed in enervation.

His hair was downright messy; many individual strands tangled together and glistening with moisture, carelessly hanging down in this very compromising position, just like his own. Hendrik's examining glare travelled down to Sylvando's jaw, for a reason unbeknownst to him.

As he watched his soft, tender lips contort to the rhythm of his uneven breaths, Hendrik's, too, seemed to be grow short.

Every gasp stole one of his own.

His mind told him to loosen the grip on the feminine man's waist; to cease the ogling, still he lost himself once more, this time in Sylvando's silver eyes, which were accented by his voluptuous eyelashes, delicately embracing his orbs whenever he blinked.

He had never noticed just how vigorous they truly were, how... _alluring._

They were locking gaze with his own, occasionally found breaking contact to trace along the larger man's body as well. Each bit of muscle, strongly pronounced by his form-fitting clothing, carefully observed -- taken into memory. Whenever he returned to meet Hendrik's own fixed stare, he could feel a certain... want. A certain _need._

Sylvando's frantic huffs became much more calm, much longer and drawn-out; warm air starting to gently brush against the exposed part of Hendrik's neck. Every faint gust made his chest tighten further and further; his ribcage constricted, his hands becoming somewhat jittery within his leather gloves. No battle had ever shaken his sturdy body, no opponent ever landed a disruptive blow; and yet this encounter managed to stir his entire being in a way he had never experienced before.

A more improper, _curious_ part of him wanted to lean even further downward, as far as gravity would allow, but thankfully, Sylvando took it upon himself to finally break the mysterious spell they seemed to have found themselves under.

"You can put me down now, darling."

Eyes torn wide open in shock, Hendrik hastily pulled Sylvando back onto his feet, and turned his back to him and the recruits with crossed arms, taking a few steps back.

He couldn't believe what he was doing, what he was _trying_ to do. Casting his look down to the ground, he was ashamed, but even more confused.

The trainees, however, were absolutely ecstatic; having witnessed their greatest hero come out on top as hoped. The awkward quiet between the combatants was instantly banished when they celebrated Hendrik's triumph with a round of roaring applause. It appeared that what felt like an eternity to him was barely noticeable to bystanders.

While trying to make his wild hairdo and folded tunic look halfway presentable again, Sylvando took notice of the burly orchidhead basically brooding alone in the corner, who still tried to process the series of events that had just unfolded. By all means, Sylvando, for one, had no reason to complain; having been held in a romantic manner with such strong arms and looked upon with intense desire.

Regardless, Hendrik did not seem to take this otherwise wondrous encounter so well, and the self-proclaimed Soldier of Smile just could not let that slide. So, he reassuringly put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Con-gra-tu- _ **LATIONS**_ , honey! You really showed me, huh?" he spoke in a peppy tone, careful to not get too close to him, trying to avoid accidentally setting him off.

Though hesitating at first, Hendrik turned back to the crowd. It truly made the impression that the inexperienced unit had been greatly inspired by the proper knights' makeshift sparring match, eyes gleaming, nigh overflowing with undying enthusiasm. A sight such as this truly was wonderful.

Confidence somewhat regained, he puffed out his chest and folded his arms behind his back.

"I dearly hope you have learned a couple of new manoeuvres during this... _practical_ demonstration," he conveyed, trying to keep any unclean thoughts in check as they were closely rushing in. "As mentioned, regular lectures will continue tomorrow at the break of dawn. Dismissed."

With one final salute, the rookies were sent off to their dorms. They could be overheard delightfully chatting and babbling in the distance, furtherly discussing the battle and exchanging opinions on their favourite parts. It was almost as if their inner child suddenly reawakened.

Delighted, Sylvando cracked a wide smile. There really were a lot of different ways to make people happy.

The two of them were all on their own now. The air gradually grew colder as the sun had finally sunk, the moist particles on the men's skin causing them to shiver.

Hendrik refused to give any eye contact to Sylvando, his heart already beating out of his chest in his mere presence. He slammed his eyes shut, clenching his fist in frustration.

_'What is wrong with me? Why am I...'_

This did not go by unnoticed by the artist. Seeing the anguish on Hendrik's balled-up face was absolutely unbearable. He didn't quite understand why he was this upset -- discovering that you find someone really beautiful was such a fabulous revelation! Sure, they were probably seconds before making out, and that would have been kind of rude in front of so many people watching, but other than that?

Sylvando sighed softly. It was no use trying to break his pretty little head about it. Instead, from a safe distance to not distress the knight even further, he attempted to get a word or two out of him.

"So, you'll be staying in Puerto Valor for a while, right? Then how about you stay in one of the guest rooms at home? You know, Papi would be thrilled, and..."

He paused.

"...I would not mind you staying. Not in the slightest."

The minstrel put on an understanding expression before turning his back to the still sulking Hendrik, who lightly rose his head at the suggestion, gaze yet averted. Sylvando didn't even intend on saying that last part out loud; it just slipped out like that. Although, maybe being honest about your feelings was not such a bad thing.

_'Not such a bad thing at all, darling.'_


End file.
